


insanity, a short sad story

by Feline_Acrobat



Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Overdosing, Suicide, This was my first fanfic, dont read this this was a school assignment, everyone dies, its a metaphor, the snake is not janus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feline_Acrobat/pseuds/Feline_Acrobat
Summary: Logan was reaching the end of his rope. The others weren't sure they could survive without him.
Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147670
Kudos: 2





	insanity, a short sad story

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in August of 2018. This was for an assignment for a tragedy. It's bad. I'm only posting this for the sake of having my first ever completed fanfic posted here. If you do want to read this please please heed the warnings there isn't a slow start it jumps right in. I also know that this is not how these kinds of overdoses work so. Yeah. I've grown since then aha. Also I will probably never write something this dark again.

It was the third time he had downed the tablets that day. Technically he wasn’t supposed to have this many, but he hurt, and he needed it to go away. He had work to do, it doesn’t matter what’s healthy, it matters what is required. He grabbed at the thermos of coffee, before throwing it at the ground when he noticed it was empty. That means he’ll either have to stop drinking the concentration juice or go out there where his three housemates were likely watching movies and relaxing. They never let him get away easily so of course the option is to avoid them at all costs.

And yet, there he went, grabbing more of the delightful drugs that made his mind stop aching and his hands start moving, as well as the sweet liquid that soothed his soul and made his heart warm when nothing else could. That’s when his friend roman walked up, the concern on his face etched deep.

“darling Logan, haven’t you had a handful of ibuprofen today? And a thermos of coffee? You really should pause and sit with us. Its Saturday, why must you isolate yourself?” his query cuts through Logan like a knife. Why does he? He could just as easily finish his work at a later date. He should stop. He should put back the pills, the ambrosia that warped his common sense. But he won’t. Because he can’t. If he did, he’d be giving up. So, he turned to the tall, princely man, dressed in bright, painful red, and forced a smile as he came up with something as a reason.

“I apologize roman. I have far too much to do. No time for silly frivolities like movies at the moment. I also do require these all at the moment, my head is throbbing, and I need the coffee to help me focus.” The forced smile stays as he walked back to his safe haven.

“I swear you’ll die one of these days from all your habits. Tell me when you’re ready to spend time with us again.” The mention of death brings a noticeable shudder to the man. He raises his hand to his face, pushing up his glasses before rushing into his room once again, feeling relief from the familiar smell of ink and books. As he walks to his desk he takes note of the trail of… scales? On the floor. He went back to work however, not giving much thought. It’s not until he hears a hiss in his ear and a slick moving object wrap around his neck.

“why hello there Logan, whatever are you doing on this fine day? Why are you cooped up in here?” he hears the snake say, as he feels the pressure on his neck tighten.

“why are you here? You were to never return. Get off of me.” He gasps as the snake stole his gift of breath. The man, so naïve, tries to grasp at the snake, as the feeling falls through his hands. The bright snake does release however, leaving Logan gasping for the air owed to him greedily.

“now surely, I’m only here to help you, I don’t need that rudeness. Now your poor head hurts so much, now doesn’t it?” and as it turns out, Logan’s headache had worsened tenfold ripping a loud groan from his throat. “now don’t you want it to leave? For the pain to finally go away? I need you to take all of those.” And without his consent, the young man felt his hand moving towards the pile of medication, and swiftly he had downed each and every one. To think a man so prestigious, so cleanly kept, would be so easily charmed by a snake man, well it’s almost uncanny. Isolation leads to madness though, and after a few minutes, when the man lay cold and blue in the hands of death, only then, is when the body falls to the floor and bring the attention of those most unfortunate.

It’s a sad day when someone so loved, so adored, chooses death over time spent with loved ones. But Logan never felt love. He never felt loved. He felt attacked, and judged, and hated. I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes though. Those who are loved don’t get the privilege of happiness just like that.

By the time the three notice the noise, or lack thereof, their best friend looked more a ghost. Roman had kept the others from seeing, but had to turn away into the comfort of his friends, because the man he loved with his whole heart lie there fragile and broken, as if he was never real at all. The screams were louder than anything except the thoughts running through his brain. The insanity ripped through his head as he shrieked louder and louder. The two others stood in shock. They cried silently and fell to the floor holding the others close. They wrecked their brains, trying to search for signs, for a reason, for something, anything. But they fell short, and heard a voice yelling in their heads that this was their fault. That they caused this. They are to blame.

They all sit in mostly silence as they try to block out this loud angry voice in their heads telling them to fix it. To make amends. There’s nothing they can do at this point. He’s dead. He’s always going to be dead and they can’t fix that. They aren’t magical creatures, they’re human.

When roman gets up and leaves the others is when they really have it click that yes. This just happened. Logan is in there, rotting away, his skin crumbling, his dreams shattered, his future erased. And at this point, they all would rather forget or die, than face that.

The other two, Patton and Virgil cry until they finally get up the nerve to close the door, neither of them strong enough to carry dead man anywhere, and they have nowhere to put him either. They stay away from the room and go to the kitchen. They try to make lunch, to pretend nothing just happened, but Virgil, the smaller more anxious man, burst into tears. When Patton turned around though, Virgil had a snake on his head. He saw the snake whispering into Virgil’s ear and his hand roaming towards the kitchen knives. Patton swiftly sweeps them out of reach, but then he hears a loud sinister voice in his ear.

“give him the knife you idiot. In the meantime, you should pick one up as well. You know you want to. You’re weak. You needed him, and now he’s gone. He’s dead and it’s your fault, let the sweet release come easily. It won’t hurt so bad I promise.” The noise hissing into his ear encourages him, as his gaze glazes over, and he moves the knife over into Virgil’s reach before grabbing a different one, and sinking it deep into his artery. A small goodbye being the dying words as he fell to the ground. Virgil’s was far slower, a stab into his lung, his stomach, and then his heart. The dying sound eerily similar to a name they knew so well. They were so young, lost their lives to mere suggestion. But suggestion can be a very strong thing. To think the boys who were mourning would be soon to die, well it’s not expected.

Some would expect a happy ending where everyone lives on and survives for their lost friend, but that’s not how life works sometimes. Sometimes grief strikes harder against the souls of man, then any blade ever could. The lives of these boys were taken far too soon. To think in another life, they were successful and lived happy lives. In some they got married, and had children, in some, they were just the parts of one man’s brain. But this universe, this lifetime, they were met with a death most unbefitting. What is to befall their final friend? Listen close.

As the last one, the prince in his own tragedy, emerged to see his other friends bleeding out, and let out a shaky wail, falling against the wall, and trying to stay standing. He hoped for robbers, for murderers to be in his home, because at least then his friend wouldn’t have lost a fight against themselves.

As he pulls out his trusted sword that he kept on him for purposes similar to these. He looked around, hoping, praying for there to be trace of someone else, for there to be someone to reap revenge upon, but as he searched, he saw nothing. The knife in Patton’s neck was covered in flour, likely from the dough he was making before all of this, and the holes, that were gaping and oozing blood out of Virgil’s torso looked mangled, twisted, like he was trying to inflict maximum pain before finally actually ending it. Typical for the man, he always said if he ever did it, he’d make it slow and painful, god they all needed so much help, why did they never get help before this happened? They knew they had problems. Logan had been a narcotics abuser, for the longest time, coming home a wreck from whatever drug he was on, cigarette still in hand. Virgil had depression and severe anxiety, something he had been in therapy for, but still never really got away from. Patton, Patton was manic, he had just tested to take himself off of his meds, they all thought he would be fine, but this was too much for him to handle. And as roman rose his sword to his neck and sliced deep, yelping out a good bye, he thought about how he himself, had issues that would never be diagnosed, treated, helped. It was too late, so long ago, for him to save them. they were stuck. They were trapped by their brain, forcing them in a path they never wanted. That night, maybe they all met in heaven, in a happy place, but most likely they were trapped in hell, where sinners like them belong. After all, suicide is a sin.

What? Not suicide? Oh, my dear, they all did that to themselves. Ever heard of a metaphor? No no, they were that driving force, the snake, the snake was in their heads. The snake was the desire they held, that they pushed away for so long.

Logan's self-pity and hatred, combined with the high given by the coffee, caused him to end it. it would never feel this good again, end on a high note. Patton’s mania, uncensored by his medication made him act on the sudden urge to kill himself with his baker’s knife, trusted to the end. Virgil listened to his depression once he lost his two best friends, took the knife nearest and made himself hurt. He wasn’t weak, look, he did it he finally did it and he was so happy to go. Roman was doomed far before this though. Roman was born to die.

It’s funny, how your brain can force you to do thinks you don’t want. How a flip of a switch and everything leaves, fades away to nothingness. Maybe that’s not so new though. Maybe the true point, is that death is an epidemic. It controls us, makes our lives a clock, a story. A story, that can ever so suddenly, stop.


End file.
